Tanabata
by serennog
Summary: It's the seventh day of the seventh month, and the SPR office is unusually quiet… LinxMai friendship. One-Shot.


**TANABATA**

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A _Ghost Hunt_ One-Shot

by

serennog

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Summary: It's the seventh day of the seventh month, and the SPR office is unusually quiet…

Disclaimer: I own nothink.

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Lin abruptly stopped typing. Something wasn't right… Yet, he couldn't place his finger on what, exactly. He simply sat there for a spell, lean fingers poised over the laptop's keys, head cocked and eyes narrowed in mute rumination.

When still the answer was not forthcoming, his gaze wandered to the tiny numerals at the bottom right-hand corner of his computer screen, and it suddenly clicked.

-- Ten-thirty. A good chunk of the morning had passed, and the workplace was quiet. _Too_ quiet.

Surely Mai and Naru would have half-way killed each other by now. But the only sounds that met his sharp ears were the steady hum of his computer and the distant scratch of pencil to paper.

"Mai!"

Or perhaps he'd thought too soon… Lin inwardly winced at the irritable edge to his charge's tone.

"Hm?" was the rapt answer.

"Tea. Now."

The Chinese man very nearly sighed, but caught himself. If there was one way to get that girl riled, it was by dispersing snappish orders. To his surprise, however, she replied with only a quiet "in a minute."

"I said _now_."

The lack of footfalls indicated that Mai had not instantly complied as was normally the case (albeit with a fair amount of ominous grumbling and abuse of inanimate objects). Curious, Lin leaned to his left to get a better glimpse of the waiting room couch through his office's open door. As he'd guessed, there sat Mai, completely immersed in some form of note-taking. For a moment, he simply observed, somewhat intrigued by the look of sheer concentration on the girl's face. Her brow was drawn, and the tip of her tongue peeped through one corner of her mouth.

"Taniyama-san?" She did not look up at his address, answered only with an inquisitive hum.

"Taniyama-san," he tried again. This time, she pried her gaze from the paper and her hand stilled.

"Pardon?" her brows rose in askance.

Lin bit back a waspish retort, took a calming breath, and said instead, "what are you doing?"

She seemed puzzled, glanced down at her pink (the Chinese man noted with much disdain) sheet of paper, before finally meeting his gaze once more, her face breaking out into a sunny smile. "I'm writing a wish!"

Lin blinked several times in quick succession. "Eh?"

Her smile vanished, and she gave him a look one would normally reserve for a psychiatric patient. "It's Tanabata," Mai said, as though it were utterly obvious.

Again, Lin blinked, and subsequently frowned. Ai! The girl didn't actually believe in such rubbish, did she?

Mistaking his contempt for confusion, Mai clarified, "Evening of the seventh?…"

Lin repressed the urge to roll his eyes, returned to his original position and previous occupation as he spoke, "I'm well aware of the festival, Taniyama-san. In China, it is called 'Qi Xi'." His fingers slid over the laptop's keys, filling the air with their gentle clicks. "But I do not believe that wishes come true."

The Chinese man barely caught himself from startling when he noticed Mai stood in the doorway. How had she suddenly come to move so silently?

"You don't?" She seemed somewhat distressed, but, on meeting her eyes, Lin realised it wasn't his bombshell that had affected her. She still believed. Rather, it was his own view on the subject that had upset the girl, and that what he saw in those endless brown eyes was pity.

He quickly averted his gaze.

"There was a time I didn't believe in ghosts," murmured Mai, and in that instant, she sounded much older than her fifteen years.

Lin's chest tightened – whether with compassion or annoyance, he couldn't be sure. "That's hardly the same," was his carefully monotonous response. He resumed his work, hoping to transmit a sense of finality. Thankfully, Naru chose that moment to repeat his earlier command.

There was the faintest rustle of paper before a muted thud-thudding signalled Mai's retreat (evidently, she had not been wearing her shoes, which would explain why he'd failed to detect her earlier approach).

Lin released a quiet sigh and briefly shut his eyes, then looked to a corner of his desk where a sheet of pink paper lay, blank for his use.

--Fin.


End file.
